Friday, May 18, 2007

Cottage Opening Weekend

Well, tomorrow is cottage opening day. And I am devastated that I won't be able to go. Silly work! I need to retire. Anyway, because I can't go and see it for myself, I thought I'd share some pictures I took at the end of last Summer. I love that place more than anywhere else I go. Everything about it. The smells. The trees. The buildings. Yes, even the outhouses. The sounds. Everything.
For some reason this old wheelbarrow has been sitting rotting by this tree for years. I love it, it is so picturesque there. You can almost feel the wood returning to its origins.


We have a wonderful garden beside the garage. In the earlier parts of the summer it has all sorts of pinks and whites , but by the end of August the Black-eyed Susans take over. They are such wonderfully unsheepishly garrishly happy flowers. I love them. There is nothing at all showy or stuck up about them. They simply wonderfully are how they are.

My great grandmother was an artist, and she helped to design this fireplace that dominates the living room. Its gorgeous. It is hard to see, but on the mantle there's a picture of my great great grandfather laying the stones for a walkway down from the cottage to the beach. He was a stone mason.

This is the coziest kitchen in the world. There isn't nearly enough counter space, and the light is awful, but when you stand at the window and look out while you are washing the dishes you can almost hear the ghost of several generations of children playing the backyard. And sometimes, you even see deer up into the first part of the woods. Seriously. Deer. The place is enchanted.

Ordinarily, if it weren't a cold labour day weekend, there would be towels and bathing suits filling that line and others. As it is, I just like the image. When we were little we used to run through the towels and flip them up in the air. Secretly I still sometimes do this. You can be a kid again at the cottage.

A dead birch tree from the woods getting ready to be a camp fire or cottage fireplace fire. Doesn't it look wonderful.

The rocks that form the break water of the nextdoor neighbours' cottage. And, at the very bottom, part of one of our boat tracks.

The remains of many a happy fire. With a very musical family, this means singing and guitars, and games, and the odd smore.

And the beach. Our bay isn't called "Sandy Cove" for nothing. Isn't Sandy Cove a delightful name. I love it. It is such a mix of practical old fashioned hominess, and whimsical mystery.


I took all those pictures on the last day that my grandmother ever spent at the cottage. I had thought of making her an album so that she could look at it when she was at home in the winter. Somehow I never got around to it, and now it is too late. But, I am glad I took them.

5 comments:

False Prophet said...

Oh look! Another foot shot! ;-)

It looks gorgeous. What strikes me most though, it that it has a garage but no internal toilet.

MadJenny said...

Actually it does have an indoor toilet. But it is on a rather old septic system with water pumped directly from the lake. So it can't handle the volume of, often, 20 some people on the weekend. So we have the toilet for night, visitors, seniour citizens, and the occasional other use, and 2 outhouses for the overflow. Good times.

The garage holds the water pumps and also houses the lawn mowers and some other equipment. So probably it is more, technically speaking, a "shed" than a "garage". I don't know that anyone has ever parked a car in there. Bicycles, boats, tractors, yes. Cars, no.

Deranged Squirrel said...

Ah cottage living. It looks lovely. The cottage that my grandparents owned when I was growing up was in Long Point - which had the added mystery of numerous shipwrecks and ghost stories. The cottage had a distinct "cottage" smell that you could only smell the first time you walked in - even if you ran right back out to the car and came back in you couldn't smell it.

When I was making my Gramma's meatballs I could close my eyes and the delicious smell of meatballs cooking made me think of chilly days at the cottage!

MadJenny said...

ooh! Shipwrecks and ghost stories is exciting!

Sensory memory is an incredible thing isn't it? How a smell can trigger such powerful emotion is just amazing and awe-inspiring to me.

I know what you mean about cottage smell being only the first time you enter. Ours is like that too. I love being the one to go in first before any windows are open, if its been locked for a few days.

Maggie said...

Oh, what a fabulous cottage! You're so lucky. *envies*